


Club Night

by NeoVenus22



Category: Lost
Genre: F/M, Incest, Porn Battle, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-19
Updated: 2009-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-04 15:38:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeoVenus22/pseuds/NeoVenus22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shannon headed for the door in a glittery top that was barely tied.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Club Night

Shannon headed for the door in a glittery top that was barely tied together with floss-thin strings around her neck and her back. She strutted past the room Boone was in, lingering in front of the doorway, futzing with nothing in particular, assuring that got his attention, and then pretending it didn't matter. Her skirt was too short, her heels were too tall, and Boone plopped his newspaper next to the armchair, not like he was reading it anyway. "Not a chance in hell."

"What's that?" Shannon asked innocently, a hum of words, her eyes never once lifting from the contents of her purse.

"No way are you going out looking like that."

"Looking like what?"

"Like you're going home with the first guy who buys you a drink."

She raised her eyes to his in challenge. "Maybe that's what I'm planning on."

She was at his side in seconds, up in his face, and he could see the glitter on her eyelids. "Do you think you have any say in what I do, Boone?" she asked, stepping in so that she was breathing on him. "Or who?"

Boone ached all over. His hands were on her wrists, fingertips sliding through the too-loose bracelets, pulling her those scant inches closer. He pinned her arms behind her back, tightening their embrace. Her lips opened to him easily, the taste of lipstick and breath mints flooding his mouth. They backed up until Shannon was balanced on the poofy arm of the chair, her knees sliding apart. Boone released her hands and skimmed his own up her sides, here her loose top barely fluttered against her skin, leaving her so exposed. He took out her ponytail and buried his fingers in her hair, trying to pull her closer, trying to swallow her whole.

Shannon's hands were on his belt, undoing it and his fly deftly, dropping them and his boxers without ceremony. There was rarely ceremony with them, just this, with no time to breathe and no time to stop and think how wrong it was. Boone was already hard for her. Boone was always hard for her.

Shannon turned around and bent over the chair arm. Boone pushed her skirt up to her waist. She wasn't wearing panties. It seemed unfair; with the wisp of a skirt, and the lobster napkin she was calling a shirt, she might as well not have been dressed at all. "Hurry," she panted, pushing back against him so that he nudged that tight, bare ass, and Boone reconsidered his earlier assessment. This was what she'd been planning for.

They both groaned when he slid inside her. No names, though, never names. Boone pushed as deep as he could, earning a moan, the only sort of recognition and respect he ever got. "_Yes_." He couldn't tell which of them had spoken. Shannon panted, stroking her fingers between her legs, her heavy breaths a wordless mantra. She was so soft against him, under him, thrusting back into him, and Boone came more quickly than he would've liked. He fell on top of her bonelessly, waiting for her to finish.

She had the imprints of his shirt buttons on her back when she rose, smirking at him as she shimmied her skirt back down. "And that is why I go out, Boone," she said, picking her purse off the floor and strolling for the door without a second look back. Boone fell back against his chair, pants still around his ankles, breathing heavily and staring at the glitter on his hands.


End file.
